


From Afar

by consultingasshat



Series: Giveaway Ficlets [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Meeting, John's got a dog!, M/M, Sherlock's a park ranger and john likes to admire from afar, park ranger au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingasshat/pseuds/consultingasshat
Summary: John takes his dog on a walk every day, to the exact same place. Not for any specific reason, of course. Not at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a giveaway fic for thelyingdetective!! many thanks (once again) to my lovely beta marion, you are truly the best

Every day, John Watson walks his dog in the exact same area of the park.

He does this, obviously, because routine is good for dogs and for people.

Not because there’s a beautiful park ranger who seems to be assigned to that section of the park.

That’s not the reason at all. 

Okay, maybe it’s a little bit of the reason. 

~

The first time John had seen the man was on a chilly day in October, the perfect kind for staying indoors with a nice cup of tea. But Toby had been restless all day, and John knew that getting out and getting his leg moving after his shift at the clinic would do him some good, too. So he had bundled up in a sweater and his coat, clipped on Toby’s leash, and headed into the crisp air. He strolled through Regent’s Park, letting his mind wander as Toby sniffed around light posts.

That’s when John had seen him. 

The man was tall and lanky, all pale skin and silky curls that John wanted to sink his fingers into. Obviously he worked at the park, going by the logo on his jacket and the fact that he was carefully inspecting some flowers at the base of a large oak tree with gloved hands. John had stared unabashedly at the man, not realizing he was slowing down until he felt Toby tug on the leash. John had shaken his head and continued on his way, knowing that a man that beautiful was very much out of his league.

But that hadn’t stopped him from going back to the same area of the park at the same time every day, hoping to see the man again. 

Luck was with him, he supposed, though he didn’t know if his growing affection for a man he had never talked to was a good thing. 

Fall slowly slid into winter, and still John bundled up and headed to the park every day, knowing that the park ranger would be there. He was always doing something different, such as measuring plant stems or collecting golden leaves or grimacing as tourists asked him about the park, and on one memorable occasion even hanging from his knees on the branch of a tree to reach some hidden piece of bark. John was already starting to build an idea of how this man was- very scientific, a little bit clumsy, and someone who definitely didn’t like people.

So John didn’t even try. 

Winter eventually started changing into spring, and John marveled at the flowers that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere in the soft dirt of the park. The day was very mild, a hint of summer days soon to come. He walked leisurely on the gravel path, stopping every so often to let Toby sniff something. He knew he would see the dark headed man soon, the man wouldn’t even notice him, and he’d keep on walking. A routine that never broke. 

Except for today. 

Toby suddenly started straining against the leash, nose pointed toward something far ahead of him. He was never a pushy dog, and so John sometimes forgot how much bulk he had. However, it was apparently too much for the red nylon collar, which snapped and released Toby, who shot off ahead of John, following the gravel path. 

“God- Toby!” John called, trying his best to run after his dog. Toby suddenly shot off the path into the soft spring grass, headed straight for- a man. 

The curly headed man.

John closed his eyes briefly, wondering why of all people Toby had to choose… him.

“Shit.”

He slowed down to a brisk walk as he approached the now-crouching man, as Toby obviously wasn’t going anywhere past him. The dog was now being pet by large pale hands, and he was trying to lick all over the man’s face as though they were long lost friends. John groaned inwardly, already trying to figure out how to get out of this situation as fast as possible, because being very close to a man you’ve admired from afar for months  _ really _ isn’t good for the blood pressure. 

“I’m so sorry about him, he, well-” John held up the broken collar in his hand for explanation, not trusting his voice as ice-blue eyes looked up right into his. He sucked in a breath, unsure of whether to look away or stare into those eyes forever.

“It’s no problem-” oh  _ fuck _ his voice was deep “-he seems to be very friendly.”

Both men looked down at Toby, who was now rolling around in the grass as the man pet his belly. John sighed, giving up on leaving the situation fast, and kneeled down next to the man to start scratching behind Toby’s ears.

“He is. Hasn’t met a person he doesn’t like.” John chuckled a bit, looking pointedly down at Toby to try and avoid eye contact. 

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“Huh?” John looked up, startled, meeting ice blue eyes once again and sucking in a breath. The man blinked once, as if he wasn’t aware of how his blunt words had been confusing, and then his cheeks colored a bit.

“My, my name’s Sherlock. Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. I didn’t mean to… skip the asking part.”

John felt a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth as he asked, “Me asking? Or you asking?”

“Both, I suppose.” The man-  _ Sherlock _ \- was looking away now, focusing intently on petting Toby’s silky ears. 

“That’s alright, Sherlock. I’m John Watson. And this is Toby, though I suppose he’s already introduced himself to you.” Toby conceded this point with a slobbery lick to the palm of Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock looked delighted, and suddenly John wanted to kiss him.

God.

“He’s a mutt, but good breeds on both sides which is why he’s still such a handsome dog.” Sherlock said this with both hands buried in the ruff of Toby’s neck, scratching in just the right spot. John stared down incredulously at Sherlock, wondering how on Earth he knew that.

“How’d you-”

“It’s obvious, see, he’s got the nose and spots of a border collie but the long hair of an English setter, and a little bit of Golden Retriever in his tail structure and the way his legs are set, and-”

“Why do you know so much about dogs? That’s amazing, wow.”

“Well it’s just, ah, deducing them, like with people.” Sherlock reddened and turned away, hands still absentmindedly stroking Toby’s head. John had to will himself to not brush against his hand as he scratched Toby’s back.

“People?”

“I should really be getting back to work.”

“Oh, uh, alright. I’ll leave you to it.” 

“When you come back by again tomorrow, I’ll explain?”

“‘Course, yeah.” John grinned at Sherlock, suddenly feeling very light. “That’d be good.”

Sherlock helped him make a makeshift collar for Toby using some thick twine and the leash, and it was only after they had said goodbye and he was headed home that John noticed Sherlock had said  _ when you come back by again. _

So maybe he had noticed John after all. 

~

The next day John walked out the door, attempting to zip up his jacket and hold back an excited Toby at the same time. He had left a little later than usual because he had stood in front of his mirror for quite a bit, feeling strangely self-conscious of his knit sweater and worn in jeans. He had fumbled around with Toby’s brand new collar for longer than necessary, nervousness curling through his stomach.  _ What if he doesn’t like me? What if I’m too ordinary?  _ The man- Sherlock- had obviously been brilliant. What if John wasn’t interesting enough?

“Well,” he said aloud, causing Toby’s ears to prick up. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

The pair headed into the park, enjoying the spring breeze that whistled through the newly green leaves. Soon John spotted Sherlock, pale skin and bright eyes, kneeling in the foliage and looking like he was exactly where he belonged. John’s chest clenched and he drew himself up straighter as he approached, knowing that if he didn’t talk to Sherlock now he’d never screw up the courage to again. 

“Erm. Hello.”

Sherlock startled, falling back into the dirt. He blinked up at John and then at Toby, who had started licking his face now that it was in reach. He cleared his throat a bit and ducked his head, curls falling onto his forehead. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

John crouched down to be on the same level as Sherlock, pulling Toby back a bit so he’d stop his slobbery attack on those high cheekbones. Sherlock glanced up again, seemingly startled at this turn of events. John smiled at him, trying to convey that he did want to be there. “You said you’d explain to me how you deduce people. How could I not come back?”

“A mistake on my part. Most people don’t like being deduced.” Sherlock’s voice sounded forcefully detached, as if he were trying to hide his feelings behind the stilted words. John felt something warm grow in his chest, realizing that he  _ wanted _ to hear Sherlock open and trusting. 

“Try me.”

Sherlock gaped at him for a few seconds, stunned into silence. As John sat down fully on the ground, he seemed to realize that John actually wanted to hear what he had to say. He cleared his throat, blushing delicately, and launched into one of the most amazing things John had ever heard.

He told John how he knew about the war, and John’s shoulder injury, and the trust issues he tried to bury. He knew about John’s mother and the alcohol, knew about him playing rugby in uni and how he had broken his ankle once. Sherlock knew about his sister and his hatred of cilantro, about how he hated riding bicycles and his psychosomatic limp. Sherlock told him things even John himself had almost forgotten about. Sherlock looked  _ alive _ , his hands gesturing all over the place and his face lit up beautifully. John thought it was the most gorgeous thing in the entire world, and he longed to reach out and kiss Sherlock.  Though he restrained himself, his face must’ve shown that something was different, because suddenly the stream of observations stopped and John could  _ see _ the walls coming back up.

“I have said too much, haven’t I. It’s alright, we don’t have to see each other again. I can be assigned to another part of the-”

“That was brilliant.”

Sherlock stopped talking with a choked off sound, his eyes widening.

“Excuse me?”

John held Sherlock’s gaze, wanting him to feel the appreciation and warmth. “You, deducing me? That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

Sherlock made a small sound in the back of his throat, a faint smile coming back onto his face. “You really… you really think that?”

“‘Course I do. That was brilliant.”

Sherlock was steadily turning a deep shade of red, seemingly at a loss for words. Before John could lose his courage, he grabbed Sherlock’s hand from where it had been settled in the grass. 

“Dinner? You know everything about me but I know nothing about you, and I would like a chance to learn.”

Sherlock blinked and then grinned, his face lighting up like the sun. “Yes, John. Yes. Let’s do dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y'all liked this! maybe one day i'll write another chapter, we'll see :)


End file.
